


the places that we never should have left

by AMillionYearsAgo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bishops Knife Trick, Bittersweet, Future Fic, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Metaphors, Nostalgia, Purple, Reminiscing, Skyscrapers, Songfic, They just appear, also not really, just heavily inspired by one, lots of them - Freeform, mention of injury, well its not really a songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29241297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMillionYearsAgo/pseuds/AMillionYearsAgo
Summary: hinata shouyou is standing at the doors of karasuno high school's volleyball gym. he's 27 and there's no one with him.inspired by 'bishops knife trick' by fall out boy.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	the places that we never should have left

**Author's Note:**

> _i'm sifting through sand, sand, sand, sand  
>  looking for pieces of broken hourglass  
> trying to get it all back, put it back together  
> as if the time had never passed_
> 
> every time i listen to bishops knife trick, i'm hit with a massive wave of nostalgia, longing, heartache, and a very particular vision: crumbling, purple skyscrapers and clouds. a couple of nights ago, as i had the song on repeat, i decided to start typing out what i saw in my head. i felt like i wouldn't be able to describe it accurately enough, and i was right, i wasn't, but i'm not upset about that. i managed to make this, instead: a oneshot that i am immensely proud of, and that i really hope you enjoy.
> 
> i recommend listening to [bishops knife trick](https://open.spotify.com/track/5lKI9qLSJkWWJ6USwMu6jF?si=CfjsKRW6RoKjuB_hIj2zXw) as you read this fic, for the full experience.
> 
> <3

Hinata Shouyou is standing at the doors of Karasuno High School’s volleyball gym. He’s 27 and there’s no one with him.

The night is purple. Stars peek nervously from behind clouds, watching, waiting. He thinks he can hear the sounds of practice coming from behind the darkened windows, drifting through the bars. He thinks he can see tall, old skyscrapers of memories surrounding him, wearing tattered capes of fog. They’re purple, too. They’re crumbling.

In the distance, just disappearing around the corner, he thinks he can see five young teenagers. Orange, black, blond, green, blonde. Are they laughing? They must be, because what else would they be doing?

He’s not really supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to be in town at all. He was just driving through to pick up some things from his childhood home and to say hello to his parents. His sister was visiting at the same time, too, driving in from Tokyo with her boyfriend on a rare weekend off. It had become an impromptu family reunion, of sorts. Sendai is waiting for him at the end of his trip, a cold, empty apartment and a truckful of moving boxes. A knee brace, a bottle of pain medication. A stack of textbooks. A new chance, a fresh start.

Are those footsteps behind him? He turns around, ready to apologize for being at such an odd place at such an odd time, for probably looking terribly suspicious. Yet no one’s there. Wait, that’s not true - there are shadows. Grey-black wispy smoke imitations of his old teammates, the boys who haunted this gym with their sweat and hope and good intentions. Boys who had so much love to give and so many smiles to hand out freely to him. Should he be scared? Aren’t these ghosts? But he’s not scared.

He thinks maybe he’s heartbroken, though that’s not quite a close enough word for it. His chest is aching. Reminiscence, that bittersweet taste of nostalgia, of the good old days gone by, eats at him. It turns his tongue into a leaden weight, his heart into a throbbing mess. He thinks he may cry, and so he does.

The not-ghosts stand a respectful distance away and stare. Inquisitive gazes bore into his back. Doubtless, they’re thinking, _What happened to you?_ The skyscrapers are crumbling faster and faster. The purple is becoming more blue, more black. Bruised.

He misses it, he realizes. He misses his high school days and the people he knew. He misses volleyball and the happiness, the _everything_ , it gave him, so damn much, and it hurts. It hurts so much that he thinks he might die from the pain.

He doesn’t realize he’s on the ground, with the chill seeping into his breaking knees and the concrete tattooing his skin, until he sees a familiar pair of shoes near his nose, then a familiar pair of knees, and a familiar lap. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until gentle hands take his face and thumb away his tears.

“Kageyama,” he weeps. “Tobio.”

Strong, warm arms wrap around his shoulders. He’s hoisted up just a bit and then he falls again, drops into that familiar lap. He presses up against Kageyama’s chest and sobs.

“I miss it,” he says. At least, he tries to say it. He truly doesn’t know how Kageyama can understand him, what with how hard he’s crying. But he does, he always does.

“I know,” he whispers. Large, warm hands rub up and down Hinata’s back. 

“Why? Why can’t I stop crying? Help me, Tobio, help me…”

He dissolves into another fit of agony. Dimly, blurred through his tears, he can see his fiancé’s face, just as sad as his own.

A small kiss, on his temple through the soft orange hair there. A sigh. It hurts the stars to watch this scene, so forlorn and hopeless, so exactly opposite of what they once were. They scamper behind the clouds. If they can’t see the two men on the ground, maybe they aren’t really there.

“I love you,” a promise. “We’ll get through this, Shouyou.” Another one. “We’ll do it together. I’m here. I love you.” A third, a fourth, just a few promises of the millions that they have made to each other in their lifetimes.

_I’m here!_

He keeps crying. He can’t stop, because it won’t stop hurting, not in his head, not in his heart, or his knees. Around them, the last of the purple skyscrapers turn to dust. The ghosts fade away. They have seen all that they need to, they know all they must.

Hinata Shouyou is 27. He’s kneeling in front of Karasuno High School’s volleyball gym. His knees are aching, constant reminders of what he’s lost. The love of his life, the last remnant of his glory days, is there, too.

They’ll get through it. They’re invincible, right?

**Author's Note:**

> [ @amillion.yearsago on instagram ]
> 
> _these are the last blues we're ever gonna have  
>  let's see how deep we get  
> the glow of the cities below lead us back  
> to the places that we never should have left_
> 
> thank you so much for reading this fic, and thank you to my dear friend SEN for beta'ing. both this story and the song hold a very, very special place in my heart. i just *clenches fist* love me some song-inspired kagehina angst/comfort
> 
> love, AMillionYearsAgo


End file.
